


the pieces scatter

by spheeris1



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F, Sexual Content, a heavy touch of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-21 12:48:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1551035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spheeris1/pseuds/spheeris1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>drabble :: Rachel POV :: Propunk :: "Sarah is a puzzle and Rachel imagines how lovely it would be to put the woman back together in whatever fashion she sees fit."</p>
            </blockquote>





	the pieces scatter

/ /

Neither of you question how it happens; it just does, it just is, and when fingers curl around the arm – tight and fierce – they leave an impression that goes beyond the physical.

_You don't own us._

She's saying it even now, but with lips held in a firm line and with hips that thrust like a battering ram, and she's telling you that you are the one who has been captured – the web collapses around you, leaving you ripe for the picking – and she is the spider to your unexpected fly.

/ /

Sarah is a puzzle and Rachel imagines how lovely it would be to put the woman back together in whatever fashion she sees fit.

With one turn, make her a tempest; with another, make her as docile as a child... and watch the image take shape – flushed cheeks, hard fists, teeth sinking down in the bottom lip – and stand back in silent wonder, stand back and admire this creation...

But Sarah is wiping her mouth off with the back of her hand, stumbling back as if all of this were a bad dream, and the sweat starts to cool along the length of Rachel's spine as booted feet rush to leave this room.

And so the pieces scatter out of reach again.

/ /

Neither of you questions how it happens; it just does, it just is, and when the palm presses against the throat – firm and demanding – it feels more like a benediction than a curse.

_...together..._

You are saying it even now, but with a stifled moan stuck to your tongue and with slick heat eager between your legs, and you are telling her that she has won this war – skirmishes made of pleasure and of pain, where lust wears your face but is different all the same – and you are the spoils of her victory.

/ /

Sarah is a puzzle and Rachel imagines how lovely it would be.

And so the pieces scatter...

...out of reach, again.

/ /

**(end)**

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to 'Angelene' by PJ Harvey. My heart belongs to Soccercop, but Propunk is easier to write due to UST out the yin-yang.


End file.
